Tuesday June 16

            My last day in Verona.  It is hot, too, at least the third day in a row in the mid to upper 90s.  I actually put on the air conditioner for the first time last night, as I usually do not like them.  But I grew tired of sweating profusely just sitting in my kitchen.

            Let me backtrack to Sunday, when I caught up on journals, goabroad.net postings, etc.  Around 3:00, I took my little Panda Fiat out for a drive around Verona.  I wanted to explore the hills on this eastern side of Verona.  So I first started driving up past the African Museum, up a very narrow road with close stone walls.  Even in the tiny Fiat, I was hoping that it was a one way street and that no one would be parked on the side.  I emerged at the top of a hill by an old church and a new villa, with a stunning view of Verona lying at my feet.  I tried to turn my car around and found out that, indeed, it had been a one-way street and the only solution was to continue down the road ahead. 

            I found myself riding the ridge around to the northeast, with vines and olive trees on either side of the road with large villas scattered about.  I passed the tennis club, so my hunch about it being the rich side of town held true.  Stopped in a large sandy lot to take more photos of the views.

            Heading further north, I passed alongside old city walls, and at a few high locations, I saw the remnants of old forts.  There wasn’t enough room through the slits for cannon noses, so they must be dated earlier.  I also found that fancy new round ochre-colored sanctuary on the northeast hill.  This has always intrigued me and continued to do so after I parked there and took what pictures I could.  There were steps up, but also a gate, so I did not feel welcome to walk around.  I’m not really sure what the Notre Dame of Lourdes was; it seemed like a retreat or sanctuary.   But whatever it was, it reeked of big money throughout.

            One hill out of the way, so I decided to amble up to another hill more on the eastern side, just above and to the east of the Guisti Gardens.  I think I actually found an old wall further southeast, but I found a place to park.  I got out to walk beside this old wall, some of it with the Veronese crenellations, and I continued up for a mile or so. Ran into a daughter and mother from Venezula who told me to check out the park around the next corner (Parco Storico Monumentale della Cinta Magistrale).  There was a nice view, here too, with a few picnic tab les and two tablets with tree identifications.  It turns out that these walls and fort date to the Viscontis about 1516.  Now further up the hill, the walls are decorated, in some areas, with giant graffiti.  As I walked back, I imagined Renaissance soldiers on horseback galloping between these walls, readying for battle.

            I stopped to see Alexandria again before I took returned the car to Maggiore car rental.  She seems improved and the word was that she could get out tomorrow, although I will be tied up on our field trip then.  Then I had more than a little trouble finding a gas station that was open to fill up that last quarter of a tank that I had used.  I tried a self-service place, but whether due to language or culture differences (it was like no gas station I’d ever seen), I lost 20 Euro in vain. So as I dropped off the key, I left a note—in two languages—saying I was sorry but could not fill the tank.

            Monday we headed off to Lake Garda with the NH Institute of Art students and professors.  Not all of our students had gotten the news that the departure time had changed from 8:30 to 8:15, and we almost left one behind. 

            First we went to an olive oil factory partway up the east side of the lake, one of the largest in Europe.  We saw a film on the history of olive oil, and I have to say my first response when seeing mass of squishy olives that had been crushed by a horse pulling a huge grindstone was “yuck!”  But when they poured boiling water over that mess, and it seemed less filthy, the whole process became fascinating, and we enjoyed tasting what we could later.  Just as our trip was ending, Terri got a call from Alex (my phone was on the blink) saying that she was indeed being released that day!  She would be home in her hotel when we got back.

            Then we stopped at a market town on our way back to Sirmione,   It was indeed quite a market and 48 euro just flew from my hands, gaining a skirt for me, blouse for Sarah, Tshirt for Steven, sauté pan for Dave, thumb ring for Alexandria and an orchid for Frederica.  I had only 2 euro left in my wallet.

            After shopping, I walked down to the lake and sat on the wall there.  I think I enjoyed sitting there the best.  It was cool, and we saw swans and ducks and their families swimming along the edge.  I don’t know why it was a blessed oasis of coolness, but it was a good deal warmer up at Sirmione,

            Sirmione is a lovely town at the end of a peninsula reaching northwards into Lake Garda. We spent three hours there but could easily have spent more.  There was a castle and a moat, cute shops and restaurants, wonderful photo opportunities.  As we walked along, we lost some students to the beach (and some rented a paddle boat and went around the end of the island, seeing more ruins than we did), and others to restaurants and shops.  I really wanted a good lunch, so Terri and I found a nice restaurant.  But as it happened, it was just too hot for sea bass at 18E, so I copped out and got a nice pizza (with artichokes) for 8.50 E instead.  We both had wine, which was very nice.  Terri paid me cash and I paid with a credit card, so I was no longer quite so broke.

            After lunch, we ambled down the peninsula. Unfortunately, the great Roman villa ruins (the Grotto of Cavullo) were closed because it was Monday.  So we sat for a bit on a bench overlooking the lake, later joining Hettie and a student from NHIA in a café there, talking for a while before walking back 30 minutes, in the heat, to make the bus

            It was only a 30 minute ride back to Verona, so next year I definitely have to get out to Lake Garda more often.  Earlier that morning, on the bus, I had yelled at the FSC students for not visiting Alex, so most of them hung around the bus stop after we got off.  After a few minutes, Alessia and I started off for the hotel, and some of the students called “Susan, are you going to tell us which bus to take?”  I had forgotten to tell them that Alex was back in her hotel.  So nine students, Alessia and I crammed into her room for a long visit.  I left before most of them, figuring that they would take her to dinner.